Scenes de la Mort de Boheme
by CeruleanStarGlow
Summary: So much was left unsaid, unanswered. We know what happened from december 24th 1989- december 24th 1990, but what else happened. Surely if a year could change so much, there is more to the story than just that one year.
1. Partie Une: Dernier Pour Mourir

Scenes de la mort de boheme-

Part one: Dernier pour Mourir

* * *

We had to be thrust together and then taken apart piece by piece. First angel went, and then Mimi. Then Collins. We were all surprised. Mark went before roger, but only minutes earlier. They died together. Now it's just the three of us, of course it's not really like that anymore. No matter how many times Benny apologizes, he's still an asshole. Joanne and I had a fight. I moved out and finally got a job and my own apartment. I'm not starving and freezing, I can afford food and heat now that I got a good role in an off Broadway musical.

So now all I can do is stand. It's snowing, but I'm not shivering. Joanne is a few paces away, staring at mark's grave. My eyes rest on angels. And Benny is kneeling beside Mimi's grave. He doesn't do anything that looks significant. He's not even gripping the grass with a melancholy look on his face. He just…stared at it. His eyes are blank, black, and wide open. Joanne looks like she's remembering something funny as she stand's bay mark's grave. She hums a simple tango, and her feet tap occasionally.

I walk away from Angel's for a moment, staring at five graves lined up next to each other. Collins and angel rest in peace next to each other, and Roger lies between his three lovers. Mark and Mimi lay beside him, and only a yard away from the graves, is a sixth, not in line, but close by, the first to die. "April Erickson" the gravestone reads.

I turn away from them, staring out at the green hills, covered with small, and similar silvery gray stones. Then I turn to Benny, the one who insured at all times, no matter how much he hated us, there would be a grave to cry on. He paid for each and every funeral, and would pay for mine in a few years, when I would die of the disease that killed my friends.

I would die, and leave Joanne, leave Benny. I sobbed the day I came home to the loft with the test. Positive. I marched right over to Joanne's apartment to make her get tested, despite the fact that we were in a huge fight at the time, despite the fact that it was unlikely that I could have given her the disease. I cried with happiness when she came back negative.

I looked back to Roger's grave. Roger had been the last to die, clinging to marks dead body as he took his own last breath. I smiled. I wish I could have loved like him. No matter how depressed he ever got, he never cheated, not once. He never once took advantage of them. Not like me. There is only one person who I ever could have loved like that, and he didn't love me. I couldn't even love Joanne like that. I looked wistfully at her, as she touched the grass before Mimi's grave. I had let her go, it hadn't worked, and now life was pulling her away from me.

Slowly the two figures around me walked away. Joanne first, giving me one meaningful glance before walking away. Benny came to me before he left. He laid a hand on my shoulder, and spoke to me softly. It was almost scolding, but in a lost and hopeless way. "Remember, at least you will join them soon, but Joanne and I will live years and years without you" he told me. And I nodded. He was…helping me somehow. Reminding me that I wouldn't have to survive this emptiness as long as they did.

"It seems almost fitting, that the closest should die first, and those who distanced themselves the most, should have to die last. To remind them they should have held on tighter."

He broke the mood with a single sentence. "You are too wise to be Maureen" He walked away after one brush on the arm, and I looked down at Roger's grave once more.

"I'll see you soon." I whispered to the grave, and I knelt down and touched the grass once more. "Goodbye love"

-X-

Maureen had come with me to visit the bohos' graves. She and I hadn't spoken a word, but I had needed her presence there. I walked down the street toward the loft, where she was living right now, hoping to talk to her. I hadn't spent much time with her since Roger and Mark died. I knocked on the door to the loft, only to find it open. I stepped lightly inside, looking for where Maureen would be. I peeked in Roger's old room, which she had taken over when she moved in. She wasn't there.

A moment later I saw the light on in the bathroom. It glowed not the customary brownish, but almost pink as if something was bright red in the bathroom. I didn't want to go in, but I knew I had to, and I knew what I would face when I entered it. I pulled the door open, and immediately flung myself down on Maureen's dead body. I lost my mind, put in the same position as roger had been when he found April's body in this very same bathtub. With a message scrawled in lipstick on the very same mirror.

I lost it there in the bathroom, I went into denial. She wasn't dead, she couldn't be. My Maureen couldn't be dead! I pulled her hands to mine, not noticing the sticky red substance that was now staining my hands. The toxic red substance. My head spun as I tried to make sense of things, and I fell. I cried and I cried, and then I stumbled into the living room to call some one, something, to tell them what had happened.

-X-

That bathroom hit me differently than it hit Joanne. Sure, she saw someone she loved more than anyone else lying dead in the tub, but I saw that every detail, down to the shade of the lipstick used to scrawl the message on the mirror, was the same as when April died. A razor was used to do the job, and she'd cut exactly the same, fell exactly the same, died exactly the same. The water was at the same level, the shampoos were arranged the same way around the tub. Maureen wore clothes almost identical to the black leather miniskirt and tank top April had been wearing. I could see only three differences in the room. It was Maureen, not April that lay dead in the bathtub, it was Joanne, not roger, crying over her dead body, and it was a different message scrawled on the mirror in lipstick.

'Bury me by roger'

Joanne looked in no condition to have read the message, but if she had, she certainly would have wondered why it was there. I knew, and I bowed my head as I remembered. They always thought Benny didn't notice anything, but he knew a lot more about the group than they gave him credit for. He had noticed that the second Maureen had met Roger, she had loved him, whether she knew it or not.

-X-

Another funeral, another day. I had watched this one group of friends get picked at again and again, and had been to each and every one of the funerals. I had watched as eight friends gathered together for a tiny funeral for Roger's dead girlfriend. I watched as Collins sang his and angel's love song at their funeral, and listened as the remaining seven lifted their voices with him, and cried, not only for angel, but for how they were being ripped apart. I listened as Roger went up to the alter at Mimi's funeral, and sang his love song for her. I listened as the remaining six sang the lyrics under their breath as roger sobbed for his lover. I watched the last five sit silently, but reunited for Collins funeral. I watched as roger and mark held each other, finding comfort in their new lover. I watched, and I cried, and I sobbed silently as each of the remaining three spoke about the two men at their combined funeral. I watched as roger and mark's mothers met for the first time, and watched as Maureen explained to the two women that their sons were in love. Something the two conservative women had never heard from their sons. I listened from a distance as Maureen sang quietly under her breath in the graveyard. 'Goodbye love' floated to my ears.

Now I sat watching as the two very last members of that nine person family, held each other inside the church in which every one of their funerals had taken place. I watched as Joanne, having just learned that the disease had now infected her with its death sentence, leaned on Benny's shoulder and cried. I watched as over the next ten years, the bond between Benny and Joanne grew unbreakable, but I also watched as Joanne grew weaker.

I didn't see Joanne die in Benny's arms, but I knew she did, and I watched as he sobbed by her dead body in that white hospital bed. I watched as he gave her one last kiss to her cold lips before leaving the room. I watched as tears ran down his cheeks harder and faster than they ever had. I watched the very last member of the bohemian family left the hospital.

I watched as he visited their graves every weekend. I watched as he divorced his wife Allison, and went to live and die in that loft. I saw as he went into reclusion. And then I never saw him alive again. I went to his funeral though, and I watched as his casket was closed him forever. And then I laid a white lily on his grave, and then a laid a white lily on all of their graves, because I needed to signify the end of the bohemian family. I was the only one who had seen as it was born and seen as it died. And I didn't cry. I smiled. They were reunited once again. For good.

-X-

-If you can't tell, each section is from a different point of view. First Maureen, then Joanne, then Benny, and then Paul(which was harder to get, but it tied them together.

-I wrote the first section as the beginning of a pre-rent, rent, post rent mark/roger drama angst story (you know there are tons of them- why does distance make us wise, is a really good one btw.) but I thought it was better as a one shot. I also have issues finishing big stories. I might make this a drabble fic, where the chapters would end up telling a story, but they would all be in the same style as this chapter. It's a great one shot anyway.

-Please read and review. I want to know what you think of it.


	2. Partie Deux: Amour Perdant

Scenes de la mort de boheme-

Part two: Amour perdant

* * *

I stood on my front lawn, staring out at the torturously identical homes of suburbia. All white wood, with clean-cut green lawns, and flower gardens. White sidewalks ran along each and every street, and new saplings grew at perfect intervals along the road. It was trying too hard to be perfect. Too fucking hard. And it was mocking me. Constantly reminding me how not perfect our thing had been.

Only moments before, Roger's car had been parked in front of my house. He had asked me, no, begged me to go with him, and now I wish I had. Why didn't I go with him? I had been offered the perfect escape from suburbia, to live in New York with roger. But I didn't take it. I let it go, so that I could live the life my parents had planned out for me. Brown, become a lawer, or something like that. Then get married and have two little blond, Jewish kids, and die. I didn't want that, then why did I choose that. Maybe roger and I just weren't meant to be…

-X-

_Mark walked into my bedroom, smiling and holding something behind his back. "Mom let you in?" I asked, and he nodded. _

"_I got you a Christmas present" He told me, and pulled a shopping bag from behind his back. I grabbed it from him, and grinned as I pulled out a leather jacket._

"_You were listening when I said I needed a new one" I said, pulling off the old one, worn through and too small. I put on the new one, and grinned at the smell. It smelled like him._

"_I got you something too" I told him, and he quirked an eyebrow at me._

"_I'm Jewish roger, and you already got me a Hanukah present." Mark told me._

"I would have given you this whether there was an occasion for it or not. It's just a start, but I want you to hear it. Tell me what you think" I told him, and pulled out my lyric notebook and my red fender. I strummed a few chords and mark sat down next to me. He put a hand on my shoulder and listened as I began to sing.

If I was without you

_I'd see the world in shades of gray_

_If I was without you_

_My life would be in disarray_

_If I was without you_

_The dreams of you would float away_

_If I was without you_

_Then I would have to say_

_I think I might die_

_If I was without you_

_Mark's hand traveled from my shoulder to my waist, and his lips found my jaw, and kissed it softly. "I think it's wonderful roger" He told me and I left the fender on the floor as he pressed me down into the bed, pinning my arms above my head. His eyes glinted as he claimed my lips in a searing kiss._

-X-

Roger clutched the notebook as he sat in the seedy apartment he and the band had rented. He placed the notebook beside him and reached for his fender. He plucked out a song and then began singing the lyrics he had written not so long ago.

Watching you live around me

While I live only for you

Only makes my heart break

Can't you see it's true?

Watching you live around me

Caring only for yourself

While I wait out the battle

I am fighting with myself

It only makes my heart break harder than it should

It only makes the tears fall, faster than they would

It only makes me love you more than I'd thought I ever could

If I was without you

I don't know what I could do

If I was without you

Baby it's so true

I think I might die

If I was without you

Letting my life go by

I watch you over my shoulder

Out of the corner of my eye

As we grow older and older

Clinging to our friendship

Through the hotter and the colder

Each and every day

I'm growing bolder and bolder

Though now I wish, I dream

I won't dare to try

To hug you when you need comfort

Or to lean on your shoulder and cry

It only makes my heart break harder than it should

It only makes the tears fall, faster than they would

It only makes me love you more than I'd thought I ever could

If I was without you

I don't know what I could do

If I was without you

Baby it's so true

I think I might die

If I was without you

If I was without you

I'd see the world in shades of gray

If I was without you

My life would be in disarray

If I was without you

The dreams of you would float away

And now I'm without you

And I have to say

I think I have died

Now that I'm without you

His voice cracked with tears and he placed the fender next to the forgotten notebook. He reached into the guitar case and found what he needed. The song was forgotten, as he pulled a needle, and a bag of white powder out of the case. Only a few minutes later, not only the song, but everything wrong with his life disappeared. Covered by that deep blissful high.

-X-

Mark stood on the doorstep of a decrepit looking building on avenue b. He checked the crumpled and faded slip of paper that he had been handed a year ago, just after graduation from Scarsdale high. This was his only clue to roger. The only piece of information he had left.

He walked over to the pay phone and carefully dialed the number that had been scrawled on the slip of notebook paper. It rang a few times before someone answered. "Hey, who is it?" The voice was deep and unfamiliar, but mark spoke up anyway.

"Is roger there, it's mark-"

"Yeah, one second" The voice said, and he heard the phone being handed to someone, and a familiar voice filled his ears. "Who is it?" Roger asked, sounding annoyedforsome reason.

"It's mark…I uh. I just dropped out of Brown and I don't have a place to stay. I was wondering…"

"One second. I'll throw down the key." Roger told him, and a minute later a key came flying into mark's head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Mark asked, rubbing the growing lump on his forehead.

"That was for being an ass, and ignoring me for a year" Roger told him. Mark just laughed and lugged his trunk up the six flights of steps to Roger's apartment.

As he walked into the large, very worn out looking room, mark dropped the trunk and proceeded to sit on it and look up at the two people standing over him. Roger smirked down at him, and a girl who looked to be seventeen or eighteen with dyed red hair, had her pale arm wrapped around Roger's waist.

"Do you have money to pay rent?" The red haired woman asked.

Mark shook his head. "I have no money. Are you going to kick me out."

"Nah. We're broke too. We thought maybe we'd have at least one month when we actually could pay" Roger told him, and reached out a hand to help him up.

"You can room with Collins." Roger said, pointing to a very tall Blackman, who I assumed was the one who answered the phone. "He's got an extra mattress in his room. We don't have a bed though, you'll have to sleep on the floor." Mark nodded, and watched as roger walked into what looked like the kitchen area, though it was hard to tell with all the clutter in the apartment. April tightened her grip on him, and brought her lips to his neck, kissing him the same way mark had just a little over a year ago.

-X-

Not the best chapter I've ever written, but I wanted to put it in. I think I'll be writing more of these, but on my own time, not on a schedule. They won't be in chronological order either, just the order I want them to be. They're not really a fic, just a collection of drabbles.

The song that roger writes for mark doesn't exactly fit, but I wanted an original song to put in, not a song someone else wrote, and that one fit the best out of all my songs. Some other songs I write will appear in the fic probably, and I might add in some songs from the musical, but not many.

Please read and review. I accept constructive criticism. I accept flames, but I hate them. And I love it when you tell me why you like it, not just that you like it. (btw, if you don't like it, tell me, and tell me why. I like reviews, whether they are good or bad.)


	3. Partie Trois: La Valse de Musetta

Scenes de la Mort de Boheme-

Part three: La valse de Musetta

"Why are you always waiting up for her?" The familiar voice cut through the silence of midnight in the empty loft. I looked up to see roger standing in the doorway of his room. He shook slightly, and a tiny bit of sweat trickled down his forehead. Probably symptoms of the withdrawl. I guess I should have been happy the worst was over. Roger was no longer throwing things at me, and screaming bloody murder.

"You have a fever. You should go back to bed." I told him, and watched as his face distorted in annoyance.

"You're not my mom. Stop acting like it." He told me, and flopped down on the couch. "And stop changing the subject. Why do you always wait for her."

I didn't speak, but sat there and turned away. "She's cheating on you. You know that, right?" He asked me. What did he think I was? An idiot? He didn't get it.

"Yeah, I know…" I told him, and I felt him tense in anger.

"Why do you still care then? Why do you keep waiting, when you know she doesn't love you?" Roger asked me, his voice raised slightly.

"You've never loved someone, and known they can't love you roger. You don't know what it's like, but I've felt it every day for years. Seven years roger." I told him. We weren't talking about Maureen anymore.

"I loved you mark, but you left. Was I supposed to wait a year for you? Or…. was I supposed to drop April for you? I couldn't do that to her."

"You've still never felt it roger. You don't know what it's like to be forgotten like that."

"Why didn't you come here with me? You abandoned me for a year. You didn't ever call. Why didn't you come?"

I looked up at roger. His green eyes were begging me to tell the truth. " I was afraid." I told him. "I don't know why… I wish I could redo that moment"

"Everyone wishes they could redo some part of their life." He told me, and in that moment he felt much too far away for my liking. I slid over to him, and my hand deftly snaked it's way around his waist.

I felt his lips on mine for the first time in eight years. They were thinner now, like he was, and there was stubble on his chin, that I didn't remember being there before. His skin was colder, but I felt it grow warm as his tongue pushed it's way into my mouth, stroking the side of mine lightly.

I felt his hands on me for the first time in eight years. They snaked from my shoulders, down to the hem of my shirt, and snaked up my chest, surprisingly toned, despite my scrawniness. He had always said he liked that about me. I looked tiny at first glance, but I was hot underneath my dorky clothes. He always told me I was the best in bed of any of the people he'd ever slept with, which always made me a little downtrodden as I remembered that he had pretty much slept with the world before he met me. He'd been a rock god in our little hick town. I guess it came with the territory.

I felt his naked chest on mine for the first time in eight years. The once familiar skin was cold, and I could feel his ribs. No, I could have counted them. He now weighed less than me, and somehow still managed to send out the big bad rocker vibe.

I felt him staring at me lustily for the first time in eight years. I met those emerald green eyes, and stared back with lust. I hardly noticed his hand as it unzipped the old worn blue jeans and pulled them off, along with my boxers, but I hitched in a breath as I felt him wrap his fingers around me, and begin stroking me. I moaned and leaned in to kiss him, but he broke it after a few seconds. He quickly retrieved a condom from his backpack, which lay at the foot of the couch. It took him only a second to slide it on, and I felt him turning me over onto my stomach.

I felt him inside of me for the first time in eight years. His lips pressed to my neck as he pushed into me, and I released a guttural moan. We pushed and heaved in a steady rhythm, and a thin sheen of sweat grew around us. I hadn't felt like this since he left. Maureen was never like this, because no matter how much I denied it, I knew I didn't love Maureen.

We were so lost in ourselves that we didn't notice the door open, and two women came through. They were so lost in each other that they didn't notice us on the couch. The two couples oblivious, pulled away from our soap opera lives for a moment of passion.

-X-

I may not have noticed Maureen and Joanne that night, but it wasn't so hard to guess what had happened when I walked back into our room in the morning to find the two women tangled naked in the sheets. I didn't have an excuse anymore to forgive her for cheating, and suddenly I didn't want to. After all, I had cheated on her now. I didn't want to keep holding on.

I walked back out of the room and into the kitchen to find roger making a bowl of cereal. He handed me a small bowl of captain crunch and took his own, as we walked over to the couch. "I know what happened last night was great, but I don't think I'm ready to get back together yet. I need time. I… I don't know why… I just know I do."

"I understand roger. It's fine" I told him, a sad smile changing my face for a moment. He gave a nod of thanks, and I took a bite of cereal, trying to end the awkward moment. Seconds later I looked up to see a woman hurrying out of my room. Her eyes slid to mine, and I think she knew who I was immediately. She grabbed an abandoned jacket beside the door, and wrapped it around her, before she left the loft, never looking back.

-X-

A week later at midnight, I stumbled out of my room, and into the kitchen. I grabbed an old rag from a drawer and ran it under ice-cold water. I shut off the tap, and squeezed the excess water from the rag. I had it pressed to my forehead a second later. I tried to walk back to the room, but couldn't make it far, before stumbling and finding myself shaking on the cold floor of the loft.

Moments later I felt Mark kneeling beside me. He picked the rag up from the floor beside me, and wiped the sheen of sweat from my forehead. I felt a glass of cool water pushed at my lips, and I took a tiny sip. Afraid to drink to much, for fear of throwing it up. The cool cloth was pushed to my forehead again, and a warm hand stroked my hair, brushing it out of my face.

My heart skipped abeat when I felt mark press his lips to my forehead. He helped me sit up and wrapped his arms around me. All night we sat there, him holding me as I shook, until at last I drifted off to sleep.

-X-

I woke up to find that I was laying on the couch. A blanket was tucked carefully around me, and two people were arguing. I looked up to see that it was Mark and Maureen in the doorway.

"Wasn't I good enough for you Maureen?" Mark asked her.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "No. You never even loved me Mark. Not like you ever loved Roger. I was just as much your toy as you were mine." I gulped and saw Mark look away from her. Maureen's voice grew suddenly cold. "I'm going Mark. I think you're right. Jo wanted me to break up with you anyway. She wanted us to be monogamous."

"Not that you could ever be." Mark's words stung her. Her head fell, and she stared at the floor.

"I'm moving out Mark, I'm moving in with Joanne." She told him, and she picked up her purse before shutting the door in Mark's face. He looked over to me, and I looked back, and neither of us said a thing as he sat down on the couch next to me. I longed to pull him into my arms, to hold him as he held me the night before, but now was not the time. We sat together in silence.

-X-

(a/n)

_The chapter titles and the story name is in French, but I had other names planned. The story was supposed to be called eulogies. The first chapter was supposed to be obituaries, the second chapter was Love Songs, and the third chapter was regretted moments of bliss._

_Scenes de la Mort de Boheme- Scenes in the death of bohemia (from "Scenes de la vie de boheme" Scenes in the life of bohemia_

_Dernier pour Mourir- The last to die_

_Amour perdant- Losing love_

_La valse de Musetta- Musetta's waltz (the song in La boheme and in Rent. The character Maureen is based off of musetta. Musettas waltz is supposed to mean the Tango maureen)_

_Please review and tell me what you think._


	4. Partie Quatre: Nouvel Amoureux

Scenes de la mort de boheme

Part four: Nouvel Amoureux

He found himself alone, sitting in a grungy alleyway near avenue B. His red fender lay beside him on the filthy asphalt, and next to it was an old, navy blue backpack, with all of his belongings. He grabbed the neck of the fender and curled his fingers around it, pulling it into his lap. Thin leather strap rested on his shoulders. If someone tried to steal it, he would wake up.

He let his head fall back onto the brick wall behind him, icy cold seeping through his matted, dirty blond hair and into his head. He shuddered for a moment, but then let his eyelids droop, and let the world around him fade to darkness.

-X-

"You planning on sleeping there?" A female voice rang through the alley. I opened one eye. She was thin, but curvy, and had wild red hair. I opened my eyes farther and tried to sit up straighter.

"Is that a problem?" I asked her, and she rolled her eyes at me.

"Sleeping out here is asking to be mugged. Especially with that guitar." She told me, and took a drag off the cigarette that she held in her right hand.

"I don't have a place. My band broke up, and I got kicked out of our apartment." I told her.

"Come on. You can crash at my place tonight." She said and held out a hand to help me up. I took it, and then grabbed my backpack, before following her. We walked a few short blocks until we reached an old brick building, spider webbed with fire escapes and broken windows.

She lead me through a heavy black door, and up a few flights of steps. She pushed open the door, and I followed her into the large, cluttered, multi purpose room. "Annie staysin that room" She pointed to a door on one side of the room. "I stay in this one" She pointed to one on the opposite wall. "You can take the couch, or you can have a shower and room with me. Your choice." She told me, and I grinned at her.

"Thanks." I said. "I'll take you up on that second offer."

"Shower first. You smell like shit." She told me and pushed me towards another door that I presumed was the bathroom. She shoved a towel in my hands and then shut the door behind me. I just laughed and did as she said.

-X-

As I got out of the shower I looked into the old cracked mirror, surprised at how much had changed in the few days I had been living on the street. My skin was grayer, and there was a heavy layer of stubble on my chin. At least now I was clean. I ran a hand through my hair. It was longer than normal, but fine. I grabbed a razor from my bag and a few minutes later that stubble problem was fixed.

I shrugged, and threw on a clean set of clothes and then ambled out of the bathroom and through the open door to her room. She was sitting on the edge of an old bed, reading something, when she looked up at me. She laid the book on the floor, careful to keep it open at her place.

"you clean up well" She said, and stood up to walk over to me.

"I'm Roger" I told her, smiling down at her. She was short, and smiled up at me.

"April"

-X-

I awoke to find roger fast asleep beside me. I smiled at his sleeping form. He was adorable when he slept. I rolled out of the bed, careful not to wake him, and walked over to the small dresser in the corner of the room. I pulled out some clothes and threw them on, and then walked out of the room.

Annie was in the kitchen making eggs when I walked out. I strode into the kitchen and whisked one of the plates out of her hands, and grabbed a bottle of ketchup from the mini fridge. Seconds later, roger walked out of my room. Annie looked up at him, her eyes roaming over him with her eyebrow quirked up.

"Who's this?" She asked, and turned to me.

"Roger." I told her. "I found him camping out on 6th street, and I told him he could crash here last night."

"Sounded like he did more than crash" She told me, smirking. I just rolled my eyes, and watched as roger made his way over to us.

"Hello ladies." He said, plucking the plate from my hands and taking a bite of ketchup drenched eggs. I glared at him and took it right back while annie giggled at us.

"How long can I stay here?" Roger turned to me ans asked.

Annie stopped giggling for a moment. "If you get a job and help with the rent, you can stay as long as you want."

"I'm trying to find a new band. The last one stunk, but how good can a band named mute be?" Roger asked me.

"Your band was named mute?" I giggled a bit and then took a bite of my eggs.

-X-

April and I never officially got together, but it happened anyway. Everything else in the loft seemed to fall into place. I slept in April's bed every night. Annie made breakfast in the morning (she made enough for everyone, but we usually had to steal our shares from her anyway). I sat around all day writing songs, or I went out to auditions for a couple of bands. The bands usually sucked though, so months later i still hadn't found a gig. I was in the loft a lot of the time. I usually made lunch, and April made dinner. Lunch was easy; no one was ever home, so I usually just made my self a peanut butter sandwich. And dinner didn't always involve cooking, because it usually meant sitting around in the life, making our coffees last for hours until we were kicked out, and on other nights it usually meant captain crunch.

Tonight meant April had made us her famous peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. They were famous for being disgusting. It still surprises me how she can possibly mess up peanut butter and jelly. It's practically impossible. I just laughed and tried to ignore the taste as I scarfed it down.

April sat next to me, my arm around her, with a half empty beer bottle clutched in her thin hand. We sat in front of an old black and white TV (I'm still confused where she got it. They don't make them anymore), and were watching some incredibly stupid soap opera. I heard a creaking in the hallway, and looked up to see the door burst open. Two people burst through. Annie had her arms wrapped around some tall, black guy, who I thought I might have seen on the streets a few times before. I didn't get a good look at him though, because as soon as they came in, Annie pushed him into her bedroom, and we heard a lock click a few seconds later.

"Why don't we follow their example?" April asked, and I grinned. I tossed to peanut butter sandwich in the garbage and followed April into her… no, our bedroom, and shut the old door behind me.

-X-

"Do you normally just pick up guys off the street?" I asked April a month later as the four of us sat on the couches watching another crappy soap opera. Benny looked over to me and laughed

"April picked you up off the street?" He asked, and I nodded.

"I graduated from brown last month, and I ran away to… here. I didn't know what to do when I got here, and Annie found me camped out on a park bench and decided she'd give me a place to stay." He said.

"I ran away from suburbia last year hoping to start a rock band." I told him. "I thought someone here would actually be good. All of the auditions I've been to… I swear I have more talent than all of them put together." I told him.

"You just need to find the right people" he told me, and opened a new beer. He stared at the TV for a moment. "Why are we watching this shit?" He asked me, and I shrugged.

"We are pathetic" April said, flicking a cigarette butt at the floor and crushing it with her heel.

"Ooh, Lets go out guys. We could go to a club. Check out some bands to see if they're any good." Annie told me, and ran to her room.

"It'll take her forever to find clothes to wear" I told Benny. He just shrugged and took a swig of his beer.

-X-

Three hours later, a very drunk April, a very drunk Annie, and a very drunk Roger followed a depressingly sober me out of the crowded club. I laughed at the trio as the ambled down the sidewalk, April twirling around and dancing a very drunk, and very odd version of some ballet. Roger was cheering her on, and occasionally shouting out lyrics to songs I had never heard in m life, while Annie kept pushing me into alleyways, and trying to get me to have sex with her. Roger and April are fucking hilarious when they're drunk. Annie's too fucking seductive when she's drunk.

I pulled Annie out of the alley and laughed as she joined April and roger as they danced, what appeared to be Swan Lake. I just laughed as Annie jumped on Aprils back, and they spun around. A second later April pushed Annie off her back. Annie started to laugh hysterically and ran spinning along the sidewalk. Roger laughed and then pulled April to his side, the two of them ambling down the sidewalk. We momentarily forgot about Annie, as she spun around and tripped over the curb into the street. I didn't se the car come, and I didn't see the car hit her and drive away. I just heard a drunken scream, and then saw her laying there, bloody and dying in the middle of the street.

-X-

Months ago, right before our band had broken up, when I was still crying daily about leaving mark in Scarsdale, I had started using smack. I hadn't been anywhere near addicted, but it wasn't a drug I was necessarily scared of using.

When April stumbled into the loft, late one night, about a week after Annie's death, I didn't think twice about accepting the needle she handed me. I wasn't scared as I slid it into my arm, and felt the blissful high spread through my whole body.

-X-


	5. Partie Cinq: Petits Rappels en Pierre

Scenes de la Mort de Boheme-

Part five: Petits Rappels en Pierre

* * *

Two coffins sat in the front of the church. Three people sat sobbing in the front row. A tall, dark skinned man, and two women. One with pale skin and black hair, and the other caramel skin and shorter frizzy, dark brown hair. Behind them, different small groups of people sat together, congregating with others they knew. On one side, an old man and woman sat together. The man balding, and the woman with blond hair that was thoroughly streaked with gray. She sobbed vocally into her husband's chest. Next to her was a young woman, no older than the two in the front row, but with long thick strawberry blond hair. She too sat with a man, and two small children, also with the same shade of blond hair.

On the other side of the church sat a woman alone. Her eyes were red, but she made no sound as she cried. She held a leather jacket in her lap, and brushed her tears off of it as she cried.

Two rows behind her sat three men. They were not very old either, but seemed too reserved and quiet to be wearing the rock and roll hairstyles and clothes that they did. One stared at the red fender that was placed up at the front of the church beside on of the two coffins.

Scattered among these people were nameless others. Friends, colleagues, anyone who may have know the two men who had died. Two girls sat together in the back row, tears dripping down their face. A small man in a long brown coat sat in front of the blond group. A woman with black hair and sunglasses, who looked suspiciously similar to Alexi darling, sat in the back corner, looking at the old camera that sat on one of the coffins.

People took their turn to pay their respects, some laying a flower down, others saying a few words. The eulogies brought in a melancholy feeling. Each person said their part, and then left, walking out of the church silently.

-X-

The service was over, and the silence was deafening. I looked up to see the blond group slowly standing up. I took a deep breath, and walked over to them. The older woman looked over to me and I spoke "Thank you… so much for coming" I told her.

"Thank you for informing us of the service." She said, and I saw some of the other blonds look to me.

"A few of us are going to go down to the graveyard, when… and just put flowers on the graves and… we're going to lunch afterwards. If you'd like to join us…" I said nervously.

"I really have to be getting back…" The younger woman said. Cindy, I think she was.

"I'll come" The older woman said, and her husband pulled away.

"Maybe you should go alone Sarah." He said, and she nodded. The rest of the blond clan left, and I smiled at Sarah. "I'm going to ask Roger's mother if she'd like to come to" I told her, and she followed me to the woman with the jacket.

"Mrs. Davis?" I said, unsure of myself.

"Call me Emily, Maureen." She said, and shook my hand.

"Benny, and Joanne, and Mrs. Cohen, and I are going to go down to the grave yard and then to lunch afterward. Would you like to join us?" I asked.

She nodded, and I thanked her. We joined Jo and Benny, and walked up to the coffins for a second. Joanne took the photographs of roger and mark, and I picked up Roger's red fender. Benny picked up the camera, and we walked out. The graveyard was near, and we walked over to the freshly dug graves, waiting only a few minutes before the men came out to put the coffins down. I took out two roses I had brought, and laid them on top of the two coffins. A tear leaked from my eye. Emily came up to me, and I faced her.

"Maureen, A mother knows her son, and a mother knows how to tell who loved her son. And I know that you loved my son. I think you should have this. She handed me the leather jacket, and I smiled at her. I put it on, letting Roger's scent fill me up. She wrapped her frail arms around me, and then we separated. I took Roger's jacket, and his red fender, and I sat on a bench a few yards away from the graves.

Nobody knew that I could play guitar. I hadn't really told them. But today I took the fender, and I plucked out a song that came to my mind.

"I just came to say goodbye love, goodbye love. Came to say, goodbye love, goodbye. Just came to say, goodbye love, goodbye love. Hello disease."

My voice was soft, and I laid the fender down beside me. I fished a crumpled paper out of my pocket. It was a type of paper I knew roger had once held in his hand, years ago. Right after April died. It was the kind of paper, that in one word, could change the rest of my life. Positive. It took one word to tell me I was going to die.

-X-

A month later, the three of us stood at the gravestones. I sang softly as I walked among the graves. My singing ceased as I stared at the stones. Little stone reminders of people who were once alive. Little stone reminders of my friends.

Tears began to run down my face as I knelt before one grave. Roger had been the last to die, clinging to marks dead body as he took his own last breath. I smiled through my tears. I wish I could have loved like him. No matter how depressed he ever got, he never cheated, not once. He never once took advantage of them. Not like me. He's the only person who I ever could have loved like that, and he didn't love me.

Slowly the two figures around me walked away. Joanne first, giving me one meaningful glance before walking away. Benny came to me before he left. He laid a hand on my shoulder, and spoke to me softly. It was almost scolding, but in a lost and hopeless way. "Remember, at least you will join them soon, but Joanne and I will live years and years without you" he told me. And I nodded. He was…helping me somehow. Reminding me that I wouldn't have to survive this emptiness as long as they did.

"It seems almost fitting, that the closest should die first, and those who distanced themselves the most, should have to die last. To remind them they should have held on tighter."

He broke the mood with a single sentence. "You are too wise to be Maureen" He walked away after one brush on the arm, and I looked down at Roger's grave once more.

"I'll see you soon." I whispered to the grave, and I knelt down and touched the grass once more. "Goodbye love"

I stood up from that spot, and walked away from that graveyard, for the last time. I was never going to see a little stone that had replaced a human life. Never again was I going to see any of these cold memories.

I walked along avenue B, and then into the old loft. My eyes teared at the sight of the walls. Roger and mark had written the names on the walls of every friend, and every life support member who had died of aids. I went into the loft for a moment, and then came out holding a spray can of blue paint. After a few moments, two new names adorned the wall. 'Roger and Mark'

-X-

My eyes were wide as I pulled the razor across my wrists, and then when the burning pain began, my face faded to a soft smile, and my eyes drooped closed. I welcomed the red, and the cold, and the spinning, as I grew dizzy. And I took my last breath, and I whispered. "Hello love"

* * *

_A/n- Not the best chapter I've ever written, but I wanted to go into more detail about roger and mark's funeral, and Maureen committing suicide._ _If you noticed a repeat you're right. I wanted to stick a little more information now into the part where Maureen is remembering roger. There are more chapters coming. Please review! It makes me happy._


	6. Partie Six: Chanson sur son Lit de Mort

A/n (and i'm putting it at the beginning this time because it would ruin the end)-

1) Please review. Reviews make me very happy, and if you don't review, i start thinking that this story is crap...andd if i think this story is crap...well...i think no one wants to read it... so i stop posting. So review. It keeps all of us happy, and all you have to do is click a button and say why you like it (or why you don't, or just be odd and tell me each and every spelling mistake i made. It's your call)

2) This chapter ends with a dedication first in english and then one in french. I did it througha translator, and i fed it back through a french to english translator, just to see how well it translated. Translators are crap. Just appreciate the frenchiness of it. It says that the story is dedicated to my twin sister Leila who died when she was a baby.

3) All of the chapter names are in french. I told you some of them, but you may want to know the others. Chapter four- Nouvel Amoureux means "New Lovers", Chapter five- Petits Rappels en Pierre means "Tiny stone reminders" and this chapter name means "singing on her deathbed."

X

Scenes de la Mort de Boheme-

Chapter Six: Chanson sur son Lit de Mort

* * *

The red light… I knew it the moment I saw the light spilling from the bathroom. I had heard too many stories of April's death, not to realize it. I didn't want to enter that room, but I forced myself to walk in. I forced my eyes to look at the body lying in the bathtub, just once. She wasn't breathing. She just lay there, with her head tilted up towards the sky, and her bloody arms resting on her abdomen. Her swollen abdomen. My eyes flashed a moment. How could she have done this… to me, to her, to the baby that must have been growing inside of her.

-x-

She stared at the little piece of plastic in her hand. The little piece of plastic that changed her life again. Positive, it said. Only this time, positive didn't mean HIV. Positive meant pregnant, and she knew who the father was. She felt tears leak down her face as she remembered New Years Eve.

The whole gang had gotten together, or at least, what was left of it. Mark had been sick, so he was bundled up on the couch in his scarf, and pretty much every blanket in the house. Roger, being the over protective boyfriend, had used up his entire savings to buy some kind of cold medicine, Nyquil or something, and had pumped him full of it, until he fell asleep. Joanne and Benny just laughed as Roger and I tried to do a drunken rendition of the tango Maureen, which Joanne had just told us about.

By around 1 AM, both Benny and Joanne had left, claiming that they had work the next morning, and needed at least a few hours of sleep. That left Roger and me, drunk in the loft with a drugged Mark. I didn't object when roger started hitting on me, and things lead to other things. I woke up at four in the morning to find myself naked in Roger's bed, next to a naked roger, and my face paled. I gathered up all of my clothes, and tossed them on, before running out of the loft and back to my apartment.

I'm pretty sure Roger didn't remember a thing, and Mark was drugged the whole time, but I remembered everything, no matter how hard I tried to forget. A month later I sat on my toilet seat, two positives clutched in my hand. A small piece of paper, and a small piece of plastic. Who knew they could change your life so much.

-X-

I didn't care that her blood stained the tiles where I knelt down. Tears streaming down my cheeks as I tried to shake her awake. I didn't care that the blood my hands were soaking in was toxic. I only cared that Maureen, my Maureen was dead, and my world would never be the same again.

-X-

We sat together in the loft, the night after Maureen's funeral. Joanne had tears in her eyes as she looked over to me.

"She was pregnant" Joanne's voice was shaky as she choked out those four syllables.

"Do you know who?" I asked her, and she shook her head. Her eyes traveled over to the bathroom, where the light had returned to it's normal color, a grayish yellow. Her eyes filled up with tears that began to spill down her cheeks.

"Come here" I said softly, and felt her scoot over to me. I wrapped my arms around her body, letting her face fall to my chest. I could feel her tears staining my shirt, but I didn't care. I just let her stay there crying for Maureen. As I watched the lawyer sob into my chest, I felt tears slowly gathering in my own eyes.

Together we sat there for what seemed like hours, crying on each other, not speaking a word. Slowly we ran out of tears, and she still clung tight to me. A moment later, she raised her head and examined my tear stained face. She sat up straighter in my arms and pressed her soft lips to mine.

-X-

In all of the affairs I've had with women since marrying Allison, I never thought to divorce her. They were always short flings, or relationships almost completely based on sex. But five months later I found myself walking out of a room with my lawyer, holding newly signed divorce papers. Allison hadn't objected much to the divorce. After all, she hadn't married me for money, and our relationship had been a lot more cordial over the past year. We had both had our share of love affairs, and we only stayed together for the sake of convenience. Joanne changed that.

-X-

I watched her, and held her, and loved her for so many years since that day after the funeral. I held her in the waiting room at the doctors office as she cried when the paper with the single life ruining word was handed to her. I watched her as she slowly, but surely became weaker and weaker, succumbing to the illness that had taken so many of the people I loved. I could almost hear Roger's voice in my head, softly singing a tune about her. About watching her die. I remembered a song he wrote once a long time ago… before april died. He never told us what it was about, but I remember each and every word. Somehow…. The song stayed with me for the rest of my life.

_Tiny little girl, she's playing in the leaves_

_Tiny ray of sunshine, brings a thousand memories_

_A tiny bit of joy within this world of looming death_

_Some beauty and some life, before the chilling winter's breath_

_Tiny little girl, she's playing in the leaves_

_Tiny ray of sunshine, brings a thousand memories_

_Brings back the summer, when it wasn't growing cold_

_Now I stand in the winter's air_

_And watch the baby girl grow old_

_-_

_How sad to watch the years pass by_

_How sad to watch her slowly die_

_How could a child's joy, be molded into pain_

_How can I watch, yet not go insane_

_How can I watch, and not lend my hand_

_How can I see this and not take a stand_

_How can I see her go through so much strife_

_Yet never intervene until, at stake is her own life_

_-_

_Tiny little ray of sunshine, has grown up, quite a bit_

_The tiny little ray of sunshine, fought through each and every hit_

_Not so tiny ray of sunshine, isn't playing in the leaves_

_Never will the ray of moonlight be so strikingly naive_

_Now the shining ray of moonlight, is shaded by the trees_

_Now the shining ray of moonlight brings back all those memories_

_Of my tiny ray of sunshine, and of how she disappeared_

_And now I have a ray of moonlight, _

_And a basketful of wasted years_

_-_

_How sad to watch the years pass by_

_How sad to watch her slowly die_

_How could a child's joy be molded into pain_

_How is it, after everything, I am still sane_

_How sad to watch, the moonlight fade_

_How then at dawn, when the sky is gloomy gray_

_How do I watch, the moonlight leave my life_

_Replaced by silent emptiness, the ache left after strife_

_-_

_My shining ray of moonlight, has left me all alone_

_My shining ray of moonlight left me shaken to the bone_

_So now that ray of moonlight, is a clouded, gloomy dawn_

_I see her, and remember golden sunshine on the lawn_

_But after gloomy dawn, a ray of sunshine is born_

_She's playing, sunny happy, though the world around her's torn_

_Tiny ray of sunshine, she is playing in the leaves_

_That tiny ray of sunshine, brings a thousand memories_

The lyrics looped in my head as I watched over the sleeping form of my dying lover. Her lavender hospital gown moved up and down as she breathed slowly and evenly, and her hand shook ever so slightly. I pressed my lips to her forehead, warm with a growing fever.

Tears prickled in my eyes as her head turned to the side, and she let out a terrible chest heaving cough. And then again and again. I held a tissue to her mouth, not wanting to watch as it was soaked with blood.

Pneumonia, the doctors had said. She wasn't going to be getting better. Her T-cells could barely handle the common cold. She wasn't going to live through pneumonia. The tears in my eyes were released, and soon were streaking down my cheek in waves. I tried to brush them away, but more came to replace them.

"Benny?" A weak voice asked me, and I looked down to Joanne, where she lay awake.

"Jo. Are you okay?" I asked her. My eyes were wide.

"I don't mean to seem depressing, but I think I've been much less than okay for a while now… You don't generally say you're okay when you're on a hospital bed for the second week in a row." She said, weakly, but with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Oh Jo" I said, and leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. My lips met hers, and I was immediately surprised at how cold they were. Deathly cold. I pulled away after a few moments.

"Benny…I…" She couldn't speak. Her eyes were fighting to stay open. "I love you…" Her voice was fading as she said so, and I felt the feeling in the air that I had felt so many times before. So many friends. So many deathbeds.

I pulled her lips to mine in one more kiss, and then pulled back to find her dead. Cold.

-X-

I never had understood how roger went into a depression after Mimi and April died. I remember a few times when I had wanted to yell at him that he wasn't the only one who had lost someone they loved. I never did, and I'm glad. After Joanne died, I finally understood the loss. I finally understood the feeling of losing someone you truly loved. No one should have to go through that. No one.

_Tiny little ray of sunshine, has grown up, quite a bit_

_The tiny little ray of sunshine, fought through each and every hit_

_Not so tiny ray of sunshine, isn't playing in the leaves_

_Never will the ray of moonlight be so strikingly naive_

_Now the shining ray of moonlight, is shaded by the trees_

_Now the shining ray of moonlight brings back all those memories_

_Of my tiny ray of sunshine, and of how she disappeared_

_And now I have a ray of moonlight, _

_And a basketful of wasted years_

-

To Katy, and Christopher, and Leila, and Jonathan

To the ones who died

And to all of those who had to watch them

-

Au Leila.

Ma soeur jumelle qui est morte avant que je sois même né.

Jumelez-moi jamais n'a dessus étendu des yeux.

À qui nom est le mien,

Parce qu'il devait aller à l'aîné jumelez.

Il a été donné au premier de phase jumellent.

Peut-être je devrais dire que cette histoire est consacrée à Katherine,

Parce que je devais être Leila.


	7. Partie Sept: Brûlure

_Scenes de la Mort de Boheme-_

_Part Seven: brûlure (burning)_

_-X-_

_Step into the shower_

_And feel the scorching water_

_Burning, your once cool skin_

_While something's burning you within_

_Everything that's happened to you_

_Their hate burning you through_

April stumbled into the loft late one night. Her eyes were glazed over and tears were running down her cheeks. It didn't used to be like this. Smack used to be fun, life used to be a game. Now the smack couldn't even help. Now, life was just roger, sex, smack, beer, and shitty, sleazy clubs. Now life meant acting happy for roger.

She grabbed a knife from the drawer in the kitchen. She watched as she dragged the dull knife across her delicate skin, over and over, until crimson blood flowed freely out of the wounds in her arm. She just sat there, letting the blood run down her arm, eyes glazed and uncaring.

_Ever since they came here, and they took away your smile_

_Nothing good can happen cuz of them, but burning_

_Burning, It takes away the pain_

_Though you'll never be you again_

_Like a slit to the wrist, but better_

_Burning_

She stood there in the clinic, staring at the sheet of paper that ended her life. "HIV posotive" It said. A death sentence. The hot salty tears ran down her cheeks as she jogged back to the loft. She stashed the paper in her purse and stepped into the old, dirty bathroom.

_Step into the shower_

_And feel the scorching water_

_Burning, your once cool skin_

_While something's burning you within_

_Everything that's happened to you_

_All their hate is burning you through_

She grabbed her stash, and moments later she was plunging the needle into her arm. She dropped it to the floor of the bathroom and sat on the old toilet for a moment, waiting fo rthe drug to take effect. She felt it immediately, like she was flying, and she was positive, this time, she would never land.

_Everything is going wrong_

_I might not stay here for long_

_But for now I'll just keep burning_

_Step into the shower_

_And feel the scorching water_

_Burning, your once cool skin_

_While something's burning you within_

_Everything that's happened to you_

_Their hate burning you through_

April stood and walked over to the old chipped mirror above the sink. She took a stick of lipstick out of her purse and opened it. She scrawled a note across the mirror, twitching her nose at the sight of the crimson words on the mirror. The same color as the blood that welled from a fresh track on her arm.

"We've got AIDS"

_Burning makes the pain go away_

_But to truly make it end_

_There only is one way_

_Turn the shower knob_

_And take the silver knife_

_Fell the burning as you slit your wrist_

_See the crimson water, rushing down the drain_

_You smile as the pain starts to fade away_

The scorching, burning water hit her skin for a few minutes, stopping the pain for a few minutes, lifting her higher and higher. Her high started to fall, though, as the water got slower and softer, stopped pounding, and soon stopped all together.

She slipped down the hot, wet wall and into the tub, trying to keep the high from dropping. Then she saw it. She grabbed the razor from the side of the tub, and dragged it across her wrist. She felt it again, she was flying again, and she smiled. She dragged it again and again, just watching as the crimson blood welled out, staining the grayish white tub. For the first time in weeks, a lazy smile spread across her features as she fell into blackness, flying into death.

_Step into the shower_

_And feel the scorching water_

_Burning, your once cool skin_

_While something's burning you within_

_Everything that's happened to you_

_Their hate burning you through_

_And now you're gone_

_They destroyed you_

-X-

The song in italics is something I wrote, not an actual song. It's another one of my fics, but i wanted to put it in with this collection of drabbles because it fit.


	8. Partie Huit: Il y avait une petite fille

Scenes de la Mort de Boheme

Partie Huit: Il y avait une petite fille

* * *

There was a little girl. She ran through the park with her dirty blond hair whipping out behind her. Roger smiled as her watched her sprint forward and jump into a pair of strong arms. Mark held her close to him as he carried her back to the park bench where roger sat right now.

"Daddy" She screeched happily and crawled out of marks arms and into his own. Mark smiled and watched his daughter envelope roger's body in a bear hug. Not that she had much luck. Roger was much bigger than his little five year old girl.

"When are we gonna have dinner?" The little girl asked, plopping back down into mark's lap. "Papa, I'm hungry!!"

"Were going to eat at the life café tonight, Okay lily?" Mark asked, and lily nodded enthusiastically.

-X-

There was a little girl. She stood outside of the school, watching parents walk up the front steps of the school, looking for their children. She scanned the crowd around her, but couldn't find the face of her father. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see papa's sparkling blue eyes, a little less sparkley today, looking down at her.

"Papa… Aren't you ssupposed to be at work? Why didn't daddy come to pick me up?" She asked, quietly.

"Daddy isn't feeling well today." Mark told his daughter sadly.

"Does daddy's stomach hurt? Can you make him your special tea and make him all better?" asked Lily quietly.

"Daddy's stomach is fine. He just needs to rest. Besides, I need a break from work every now and then." Mark took lily's hand and the two of them walked away from the elementary school. "How 'bout you come back to work with me. You can help me take pictures."

"I love going to work with you! But won't daddy get lonely at home?" Lily asked her papa.

"Dady will be fine, and I think it's best if we don't get too close to daddy for a little while. If we get sick too, we won't be able to help him get better." Mark told her.

"What is daddy sick with?" Lily asked. "Mary had a cold last week. She was out for THREE WHOLE DAYS!! Is daddy going to be sick that long?"

"I don't know. But he needs his rest to get better as fast as he can. We need to let him rest, so be very quiet when you get home."

"But what is he sick with? Does daddy have a cold?"

Mark sighed and pulled Lily close. "Daddy has pneumonia"

"Oh… Is that bad? Will daddy get better?" Lily asked.

Mark didn't say anything, but lily didn't take that as a bad thing. "Daddy will get better. Everyone gets better eventually" Mark went silent again, and hoisted Lily up onto his back so that she couldn't see the tears gathering in his eyes.

-X-

There was a little girl. She was dressed in bright, colorful clothes. Bright blue jeans, a yellow t shirt with a rainbow butterfly on it, and a technicolor Lisa Frank backpack. Her clothes seemed too bright for the white hospital room. Her blue eyes seemed too happy. Her pink smile, too joyful. The moment she walked into the room, Roger's blank stare turned into a smile, and his eyes became brighter. She ran over to his bed and enveloped his frail body in her arms.

"Daddy! How have you been?" She asked happily, oblivious to the morose mood in the room. Her father made his weak smile a bit bigger for her, and spoke in a raspy voice.

"Oh, you know, I've been lying here on this bed all day. Nothing interesting. How was school today?"

Lily smiled. "We made collages out of pictures in magazines. We were supposed to be cutting out things that we liked to do, but I got bored, so I decided to make you. The teacher thought it was really pretty."

Lily handed him a collage of pictures cut out of magazines, that had been creatively arranged to look surprisingly similar to roger playing his guitar. "This is beautiful sweetie! I love it!" Roger said, and Lily grinned and kissed him on the cheek.

"Daddy, when are you coming home?" Lily asked quietly.

"I don't know baby. The doctors haven't told me." He told her, his voice growing quieter.

"I hope you can come home soon. I miss you being at home." Lily told him.

"I love you sweetie" He said, and smiled, his eyes shining.

"I love you too daddy" She said, and a nurse came in and told Mark that visiting hours were over. Mark looked saddened, but walked over to his daughter, and took her hand.

"We have to go now Lils. Visiting hours are over."

Lily looked sullen, but she nodded and leaned over to kiss roger on the cheek once more. "Goodbye daddy, I'll see you soon"

"Bye sweetie" Roger told her . Mark took his hand and brought his lips to roger's, silently telling him how much he loved him.

"I'll see you" Mark told roger softly. Roger smiled and watched as they left. His smile fell back to its blank look. Suddenly he didn't look so much like Lily's picture.

-X-

There was a little girl. Her papa had left her to go get a cup of tea in the cafeteria, letting her stay in the hospital room with her daddy. He was fast asleep, breathing awkwardly, his face was pained. Suddenly in a lound coughing fit he awoke, and Lily came over to his bedside and put her small hand on his face. He was burning up.

"Sweetie" He chocked out.

"Daddy! Are you okay? What is it daddy?" she asked, confused and scared.

"Lily, sweetie, I need you to take care of papa when I'm gone" He said, his voice raspy and thin.

"Daddy!! Daddy, you're not leaving us! We need you!!" She said, whimpering as her daddy covered her hand in his.

" I love you sweetheart. And I need you to give Mark my love for me. Give papa my love." He said softly.

"But daddy! You can't leave!" Lily had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Promise me baby. Tell papa how much I love him, because I can't tell him goodbye."

"I promise daddy"

"And always remember how much I love you. I love you to the ends of the earth sweetie. You know that right?" He asked.

"I know daddy. I love you too" She said and looked in his eyes.

"Remember that, and tell papa I said goodbye love"

Lily was sobbing so hard she didn't even hear the low steady beeping of the heart monitor slow, and give way to a long low tone that went on, and on. All she could see was her papa laying still on the white sheets, moving not a muscle, with his eyes open, staring blankly into her eyes.

-X-

There was a little girl. She was in her papa's arms, and she was dressed in black.

-X-

Roger sat up straight in bed, his breathing heavy and ragged, and his hair stucking to his sweaty neck. Mark groggily sat up and looked over to him. "What is it?" He asked.

"I had another dream…" Roger said quietly.

"Was it about lily?" Roger looked over to mark, and Mark sighed, he put his arms around roger and eased their two bodies back onto the thin sheets. "If things had been different, she might exist, stop wishing for her roger… You know she'd just be hurt"

"I know…" Roger looked away. "That's what I dreamed about this time. I died… and she watched me die…"

"It will be fine roger…"

"No… not really… I'll still die"

"It doesn't matter roger, because I'll still love you"

"That was the stupidest, most cheesy thing you could have said"

"Yeah… But it's true"

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(A/n- The chapter title means- "there was a little girl"


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